


Wrap Your Hands Around My Throat (I Won't Mind)

by silverknees



Series: Stucky Bingo 2019 [6]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bath Sex, Frottage, Hair Washing, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, M/M, Stucky Bingo 2019, soft dom steve rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 14:12:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19831876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverknees/pseuds/silverknees
Summary: His eyes followed Steve as he kneeled back down, the bar of soap held loosely in one hand as the other reached out, as if to touch Bucky’s shoulder, before quickly being withdrawn.Steve dunked the soap in the water, his movements precise and business-like as he worked up a thick lather on his palms. The only thing that betrayed him was the near-invisible tremor in his hands, something that nobody could possibly notice. Nobody but Bucky, of course. He’d probably smirk if he didn’t feel exactly the same on the inside.(for the hair-pulling square on my bingo card)





	Wrap Your Hands Around My Throat (I Won't Mind)

**Author's Note:**

> This has taken me nearly THREE WEEKS to write, which shows you how bad my writer's block has been :/

“C’mon, Buck, get in. The water’s nice and warm, see?”

The bathroom on Steve’s floor was huge, bigger than their whole apartment back in Brooklyn. It was covered in some kind of pink marble, soothing to Bucky’s eyes as Steve gently helped him into the bathtub, filled to the brim with water and bubbles.

The bubbles smelled subtle, not cloying or overpowering. Bucky supposed that anything too fragranced would be uncomfortable for Steve, what with his enhanced senses. He tried to say as much, but all that came out was a happy grumble as the water lapped against his skin.

Steve kneeled on the floor next to the tub, level with Bucky. “JARVIS, injury scan on Sargent Barnes, please,” he barked, his voice at odds with the gentle expression he was fixing on Bucky.

“Sergeant Barnes is mostly uninjured, barring a sprained wrist and assorted bruises,” JARVIS’ robotic voice echoed through the room, startling Bucky a little before he settled down again, resting his head on the cool rim of the tub.

“See, Stevie? Tol’ya I’m fine, y’weren’t that rough on me,” he mumbled, his lips clumsy over the short words.

“Maybe so, Buck, but even super-soldiers need a rest break,” Steve looked at him, still softly, but with an appraising quirk to his eyebrows. “and a bath.”

“You sayin’ I stink, punk?”

“No, jerk, I’m saying I want to take care of-“ Steve blushed, cutting himself off before he went any further. His eyes darted away from Bucky’s frame. This situation hadn’t been an unusual occurrence before the war, though admittedly back then the roles were reversed and Steve was normally so delirious with fever that he couldn’t think of anything other than hurts, Buck, it hurts.

Bucky watched Steve with half-lidded eyes, taking in the flush spreading down his neck and shoulders. It was nice to see him flushed with something that didn’t have the capability to kill him.

“Y’wanna take care of me, huh? Stevie?” If it was possible, Steve’s blush deepened further, and he just nodded in response to Bucky’s question, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

“Jus’ wanna return the favour,” he mumbled, and oh. That sentiment was definitely, completely doing things to Bucky’s dick. He’d never been so thankful for the existence of bubbles. “Can I-” Steve stumbled over his words a little, his fingers tapping on the thick material of the combat trousers they used for training. “You used to wash my hair,” he continued, pointedly looking anywhere but Bucky, “’n it felt real nice.”  
He finally, finally looked up at Bucky, his brow furrowed and his plush bottom lip caught between his teeth. “D’you want me to- to do that to you? For you?”

Bucky felt his own blush begin to rival Steve’s, and he nodded his head jerkily, not trusting his voice not to betray him before Steve got a chance to put his hands in his hair, to touch him.

“Okay,” Steve braced his hands on his knees, obviously steeling himself. “I’m gonna get some hair stuff, I’ll be right back-“

Bucky’s arm shot out, the metal one, grabbing Steve’s wrist before he could stand up.  
“Don’t, don’t leave right now.” He hated that his eyes were prickling, and what were all these fucking FEELINGS? Steve made a move to get up, and Bucky gripped tighter, shame and irritation welling up along with tears. “Stevie, please,”

“’s’okay, Buck, I’m just reaching for the soap,” he gestured to a ridge above the tub, where a bar rested in a tasteful dish. “See?” Bucky didn’t vocalise his reply, but he released his grasp and watched warily as Steve stood up and took the soap in hand, still terrified of being left like this, alone and vulnerable.

His eyes followed Steve as he kneeled back down, the bar of soap held loosely in one hand as the other reached out, as if to touch Bucky’s shoulder, before quickly being withdrawn.  
Steve dunked the soap in the water, his movements precise and business-like as he worked up a thick lather on his palms. The only thing that betrayed him was the near-invisible tremor in his hands, something that nobody could possibly notice. Nobody but Bucky, of course. He’d probably smirk if he didn’t feel exactly the same on the inside.

“Can you lean back for me?” Bucky obeyed like he’d been given an order, his movement swift and sharp, and Steve’s shoulders tensed but he remained still, his eyes cautious, like Bucky was a spooked animal. “I’m going to touch your hair now,” Steve said after a moment, his voice quiet and steady. “Is that okay, Buck?” Bucky nodded, a quick jerk of his chin, and took a deep breath.

The first touch of Steve’s hands to his hair was hesitant, barely there, but Bucky felt it like a livewire. He willed himself to stay still, not to react, and he kept it up until Steve sank his fingers in, through Bucky’s hair to rub at his scalp. His breath was embarrassingly shaky when he exhaled, and he didn’t realise he’d leaned into Steve’s touch until his palm was pressed to the curve of his skull, a soft, grounding pressure.

This must have taken Steve by surprise, because he remained still, almost as if he was waiting for Bucky to pull away. When no such reaction seemed imminent, his other hand reached up to join the first, cupping the base of Bucky’s skull and rubbing small, soft circles into his scalp.

“This okay?” Bucky nodded in assent, less violently than before, trying not to dislodge Steve’s careful hands but still not entirely trusting his voice. He leaned further back, his shoulder blades pressing against the cool enamel of the bathtub as Steve’s grip kept his head steady. His movement created little ripples in the bathwater, tiny waves cresting against his skin.

Steve let out a little sigh from behind Bucky, barely audible, and moved his hands outward, one on each side of Bucky’s head as he worked the soap into the roots of his hair and his scalp. After a few moments of this he tried to withdraw his hands, ostensibly to grab the soap, but on the way out one caught in a knot of Bucky’s hair, pulling tightly at the roots.  
Bucky gasped, his neck arching outwards as his head followed Steve’s hands, a tiny, whimpering sound escaping from his parted lips. Steve reacted instantly, jerking his hands suddenly from Bucky’s head and snapping them to lay flat on his thighs, his fingers flexing against them.

“Fuck, Bucky,” Steve said, raking a damp hand through his own hair. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you-“

“You didn’t.” Bucky’s voice was low and rough, a marked contrast from his last plea for Steve to stay with him. He ducked his chin down into his chest, his hair falling to hide the blush he felt rising in his cheeks.  
“You didn’t hurt me.” He repeated.

Steve’s voice was sceptical when he replied, and even though Bucky couldn’t see his face   
he knew that Steve’s brows would be furrowed, a little groove forming in between them that he’d always been so tempted to smooth away with his thumb.

“Then why’d you make that sound?”

Bucky almost wanted to laugh, Steve’s cluelessness to Bucky’s actual meaning bordering on hilarity.

“Because, Steve,” he muttered, wishing desperately for his brazen confidence from before the war, “It felt good. I made that sound ‘cause I liked it, okay?” 

He waited for Steve to reply, to leave, anything, but was met with silence, broken only by their out-of-sync breathing, the quiet movement of the water.

Steve was still silent when he placed his hand back on Bucky’s head, his fingers shaking minutely against Bucky’s sensitive skin. He delicately gathered up a few strands of Bucky’s hair, wrapping them slowly around his fist. Bucky thought he might have forgotten how to breathe.

Steve’s voice was deep, a raggedness to it that Bucky had never heard before, when he asked, “You like this?” punctuating the last word with a sharp tug to the hair he held in his grasp. “You like that, Buck?”

Bucky nodded as much as he could with his hair pulled taut, a small groan fluttering past his lips.  
“Yes - fuck!” his confirmation was cut off as Steve pulled his hair even tighter, the back of his skull inches away from the rim of the bathtub. If he tried, he could look up and see Steve. He wasn’t sure he wanted to, just yet. It turned out he didn’t get a choice, as Steve used his leverage to twist Bucky’s head around, prompting a yelp as his hair was yanked yet again, and Bucky turned his whole body for the sake of not getting a cramp.

Steve’s muscled chest was moving up and down rapidly with each breath, a blush high on his cheeks that surely mirrored Bucky’s own. His eyes were wide, the pupils almost swallowing the blue of his irises, and if Bucky looked down – yeah. Steve was hard.

Bucky suddenly realised the position they were in – Steve’s hand behind his head, their faces inches apart – and his breath caught in his throat. Steve brought his other hand up to cup Bucky’s jaw, his thumb brushing over the day’s stubble, and blinked slowly, like he was trying to reach the end of his thought before reopening his eyes.

Now or never, punk.

Bucky sucked in his lower lip, running his tongue and teeth over it as he waited for Steve to do anything. Steve’s eyes darted to Bucky’s mouth, then back to his eyes. Bucky waited. Steve said, “Buck…” Bucky waited.

Steve leaned forward, his lips millimetres from Bucky’s own.  
Bucky was done waiting.

He surged forward, pressing his mouth to Steve’s. It was uncoordinated and messy, and their teeth clacked against each other because the angle was off, but Steve tasted like sweat and the syrup he had on his pancakes and something else that was just undeniably Steve. It was perfect.

Steve’s hand, resting in Bucky’s hair, suddenly tightened and twisted, adjusting their positions very slightly and then Steve’s tongue was licking into Bucky’s mouth and his grip was getting stronger, and Bucky moaned something that sounded like Steve’s name.  
Steve broke the kiss, his lips slick and pink.

“Is this…” he breathed, running his thumb over Bucky’s cheekbone. “Is this okay?” He looked uncertain, like he was terrified Bucky would reject him, push him away, and for a second Bucky saw Steve as he had been seventy years ago, small but tough, steeling himself for another hit.

Bucky never, never wanted to be behind that hit.  
“Please.”

It wasn’t clear who initiated the second kiss, but it was deeper than the last, slicker and hotter and filthier. Steve’s hands were back in Bucky’s hair, tugging and twisting, and Bucky was so hard it hurt.

“Fuckin’,” he panted, forcing himself away from the kiss, “Fuckin’ get in here, Stevie, c’mon,”  
Steve looked at him for a second, processing his request. Then from one second to the next he was stood up, towering over Bucky, his shirt halfway over his head.

“Wait, Steve.” He stilled immediately, like he was ready to chuck his shirt back on and hightail it out of the room. “Stevie. Slow down, wanna see you.”

Steve relaxed, drawing his shirt the rest of the way off. It wasn’t as if Bucky had never seen Steve shirtless before, even after the serum, but this felt so irrevocably different. Steve’s muscles shone with sweat, rippling with every breath he took.

His soapy hands fumbled with the fastenings of his pants before they, too, fell to the floor, revealing even more endless skin. His boxers were tight and grey, straining at the front where his erection seemed to be threatening to burst the seams. A growing dark spot spread from what must have been the head of Steve’s cock, and Bucky nearly salivated at the sight, practically able to taste the salty musk already.

“C’mon, Stevie,” Bucky whined, knowing full well how needy he must sound but completely unable to bring himself to care. “Come here.”

Steve placed one foot in the water, awkwardly straddling the side of the tub. Bucky rolled his eyes, and Steve got in fully, standing up above Bucky with the water splashing his calves. The tub was big, not enormous, but that didn’t really matter for what Bucky intended to do with Steve.

Steve kneeled down, knees on either side of Bucky’s thighs, in a similar position to how they’d been before. This difference now, though, was that the skin of Steve’s thighs was hot against Bucky’s, his breath ghosting across his face as they stared at each other.

Bucky wasn’t sure who moved first, but it felt like an age of silence and stillness before one of them did, their lips pressing together again. Bucky opened his mouth at the fist contact, giving Steve access as he moved his hands to grip Steve’s muscled shoulders. Steve, meanwhile, put his hand back into Bucky’s hair, alternating between soft strokes and sharp tugs as they kissed.

Bucky’s severely neglected erection made itself known again, as Steve’s clothed one brushed against it. Bucky gripped the elastic waistband of Steve’s boxers, muttering into Steve’s mouth as he made to tug them off.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, Stevie.” tug. “who keeps their boxers on when they know they’re gettin’ in the bath?” tug. He eventually managed to wriggle them off Steve’s ankles, somehow not breaking their kiss, and he flung them across the room, where they landed with a satisfying splat.

That taken care of, Bucky returned his attention to more important things, namely the naked, beautiful supersoldier in his lap. Steve gave an especially sharp yank, and Bucky’s dick jumped in response, again brushing against Steve’s, only this time with no barrier between them.

“Fuck, Steve,” He groaned, arching his neck into Steve’s grip. “Can I, fuck, can I touch?”  
Steve made no vocal response, but grabbed one of Bucky’s hands and dragged it between their bodies; to Bucky, that was answer enough.

Steve’s erection was heavy in his hand, the foreskin velvety smooth as it drew back over the tip. It was thick, too, barely fitting in Bucky’s hand. He stroked it gently a couple of times, trying to work out what Steve liked, what made him thrust forward into Bucky’s fist and groan into his mouth.

Steve’s hand moved from Bucky’s shoulder, the other still in his hair, to meet Bucky’s between their legs. He curled his fingers around Bucky’s as yet untouched cock, hard and leaking in the water, and swiped his calloused thumb over the sensitive tip. Bucky’s hips jerked unexpectedly, a groan escaping from their joined lips, and Steve smirked against his mouth and did it again, provoking a near identical reaction.

They continued like that for what could have been minutes or hours, the feeling of skin on skin proving more addictive than any cigarette Bucky’d smoked before the war, any substance he’d had injected over the years. It was just this, the soft skin of Steve’s cock in his hand, the sharp, sweet pain every time his hair was pulled, and the whimpers drawn out of each other, mingling in the quiet of the room.

Bucky came first, his hips stuttering into Steve’s hand as he chanted over and over again, “stevestevestevesteve,” and Steve just watched, tightening his hand in Bucky’s hair and working him over until Bucky weakly pushed him away, groaning. Steve then took himself in hand, stroking quickly to the sight of Bucky in front of him, fucked out and sated with half-lidded eyes and kiss-swollen lips. He came silently, in ropes over Bucky’s chest and his own hand, forcing his eyes to stay open and take in the sight, feeling totally debauched.

After several moments of heavy breathing, Steve hauled himself out of the bathtub, pulling the plug before walking over to grab a towel and begin drying himself off. Bucky just watched, knowing Steve would leave and totally helpless to do anything about it. Just when he was about to give in, to beg Steve to stay like the weak, needy idiot he was, Steve walked over, a second towel in hand, and reached out to help Bucky stand up.

“C’mon, Buck, let’s get you nice and dry,” He smiled sheepishly, eyes raking over Bucky’s body. “Then, maybe… do you want to have dinner with me?”

**Author's Note:**

> chat to me on [tumblr](http://professorxxxavier.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
